Sins of the Fathers
by Lilya
Summary: SS Arc. Can you lose what you never had? The day of Rukia’s execution, two members of the Kuchiki House confront each other. One is Kuchiki Byakuya the other – his son. ON HIATUS
1. Crash and Burn

Title: Sins of the Fathers

Author: Lilya

Genre: Drama/Angst

Summary: SS Arc. Can you lose what you never had? The day of Rukia's execution, two members of the Kuchiki House confront each other. One is Kuchiki Byakuya; the other – his son.

Main Characters: Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia, various Original Characters.

Rating: PG

Pairing: Byakuya/Hisana

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite. If you see a character you don't recognize, then it belongs to me. The whole plot belongs to me as well.

Author's note: 1) English is not my native tongue – please forgive my mistakes. If some sentences don't make sense, please tell me and I'll try to fix them.

2) I choose to call the main character Kenshin because I was told that it contains the element of "sword" (ken) and "heart" (shin) in Japanese. I thought it was quite fitting.

3) I arbitrarily decided that spirit age more slowly than human beings. The fact that they must be able to have children was stated - between the lines - by Kubo Tite himself – isn't Byakuya the 28th Kuchiki generation?

Sins of the Fathers 

PART I – CRASH AND BURN

I sigh as I sneak a glance outside the window. It's such a lovely day – how I wish I could go outside, instead of being stuck here.

I wish aunt Rukia was here.

Aunt Rukia is surely the best member of the Kuchiki family ever!

How wish she'd come back soon. She has been gone for almost three months and I miss her a lot. It gets really lonely here when she's not around.

I frown.

What if something has happened to her?

No – she's too smart and too good. And then, Father would have told me.

Well, most likely, he would have ordered Toma-san to tell me.

That old hag… I don't like her at all.

Neither does Aunt Rukia – another thing we have in common.

On the other hand, Father leaves her the complete control of the mansion. He doesn't realize how insufferable she is, since he is never home.

It does get really lonely when Aunt Rukia is not here.

In these days, I feel like I hate everything. This huge manor, my name and my position….

I know I shouldn't say it. I know I'm really lucky, that I have a lot of opportunities. But…

I wish you would come back soon, Aunt Rukia.

My auntie is the only one who understands me and always finds time for me.

Once I was having another bad day like this and she made me spill everything. I feared she would think me a spoiled, ungrateful brat. But she didn't.

She said she could understand me and hugged me tightly.

I do love aunt Rukia very much. She's like a mother to me, even if we don't see much of each other.

All my best memories revolve around her.

"Kenshin-sama…"

I raise my head. "Yes, Shinju?"

"I beg your pardon, Kenshin-sama, but you will be late for your lesson with Yazawa-san."

Then the old scarecrow will report to my father and he will scold me about My Responsibilities As Heir To The Kuchiki Name.

"Thank you, Shinju." I sigh as I get up and gather my things.

I really hate this place.

The only nice people here are Aunt Rukia and Shinju.

Shinju was my mother's youngest handmaiden. When my mother died, a few months after my birth, she became my nanny.

Not that I need a nanny anymore, but she's really nice to have around, even if it took me thirty years to convince her to call me by my given name.

What's the use in a name if nobody ever uses it?

Even my Father – the rare times he speaks to me at all – doesn't say it.

My other relatives do, however, I'd rather that my name was said by people that I actually **_like_**.

Like Father's vice-Captain.

I don't know why Father is so cold with him, he's so funny! No wonder Shinju has a crush on him…

I wish her luck from the bottom of my heart. He's a good man.

And he never treats me like a baby. That's what I like about him and Auntie Rukia: they don't think I'm stupid just because I'm young.

They never tell me that I'll understand when I grow up or that I'm too young for something. If I have doubts or don't understand something, I usually talk to them – mostly to auntie, however, since I don't see much of Abarai-san.

"Good morning, sensei." I say as I enter the school room.

"Good morning, young master."

Outside, the sun is shining.

I wish aunt Rukia was here…

And yet…

I have a feeling that there's something going on. I'm not talking about the drifters that entered Soul Society – although I'm sure that they must be connected, somehow.

Except for aunt Rukia and Abarai-san, nobody bothers to tell me anything – I'm just a child, aren't I?

Shinju is close to me, but she is still a servant and Toma-san could have her out of the house in no time. Plus, she fears my father – like everybody else.

Not that I despise her for this, even Auntie is afraid of him and she is very brave.

I think I'm the only one in the whole Gotei 13 not to feel anything for him.

But this is not the point.

The point is, something is going on behind my back. And I'm really worried, because I feel that aunt Rukia is involved, somehow.

I saw our servants' nervous faces. I heard them whisper among themselves.

I bet Father knows – and so do my "dear" relatives. I've seen them come to visit my father very often in these days.

But I can't ask them. Father would simply tell me I should concentrate more on my training and studies To Uphold The Kuchiki Family Name – I swear that that man talks in capitals.

My other relatives that are not – and could never be – Aunt Rukia would pat my head and tell me to go off and study and not trouble my little head with grown-ups' business.

Yet something is in the air. Something bad.

I feel it.

I try to concentrate on the lesson, but those thoughts still linger in my mind.

My after-lunch break is almost over – soon my next lesson will start. As I'm walking down the hall to head to the training grounds, a sound reaches my ears and forces me to stop dead in my tracks.

Voices… voices coming from Aunt Rukia's room!

She's back! Why didn't she come to me? Surely she knew I was worried…

Ah, who cares! She's back!

I know it's unbecoming of a noble boy, but I start to run nonetheless.

I grasp the handle and right when I'm about to throw the door open, I freeze.

This isn't Aunt Rukia's voice!

Somebody's arguing – it sounds like… Shinju?

Shinju is arguing with Toma-san?

What on Soul Society is happening?

I press myself against the door to listen – I know I shouldn't, but I don't care. I'm sure I heard them mentioning my auntie.

"Kuchiki-sama hasn't ordered to take away Rukia-sama's belongings yet!"

What? What are they talking about!

"I am ordering it!"

Toma-san – it figures.

"The sooner we clean away every trace of that scum, the better!"

"Don't talk about Rukia-sama like that!"

Scum? My auntie!

That's it, she's SO being fired!

I hear her scoff. "Don't call her "sama." That ungrateful wench was never a true Kuchiki to begin with! And look how she repaid our master's kindness! He took her in, brought her higher than she ever deserved and she goes and shames this House's noble name!"

"Well, I can't see how lending her Shinigami powers to a human could be an offence worth of death penance! She must have had her reasons to do so!"

"That's why you are only a lowly servant. You have no right to talk!"

"I don't care! And I wouldn't speak so highly of Kuchiki-sama's kindness, since he didn't move a single finger to help her!"

The sound of a slap echoes in the room. "How dare you question our master's actions!"

"Rukia-sama deserved at least a trial!" Shinju says.

"That would soil even more the Kuchiki's name! That wench doesn't deserve so much!"

"Yes, she does! She's the kindest person I've ever met!" Shinju sobs. "Kuchiki-sama is a cold, cruel man! If it wasn't for young Kenshin-sama, I wouldn't stay here another minute! He's unforgivable!"

"He can't risk his position to help that ungrateful scum!"

"That's not the only thing! Abarai-san told me that when they took back Rukia-sama and our master told her that he wouldn't help her, the only thing she asked of him was to send Kenshin-sama her love. Do you think he did it? No!" another sob. "What is he waiting for, the end of the execution?"

Toma-san huffs. "There's only a few hours left anyway!"

"That poor child will be heartbroken! Rukia-sama was so close to him…"

"Kuchiki-sama shouldn't have allowed her near the young master."

Shinju says something back and they keep on arguing, but I can't hear a thing.

Aunt Rukia is about to die.

Aunt Rukia sent me her love.

Father didn't help her, he didn't even try!

Aunt Rukia didn't even had a chance to explain, to defend herself…

This can't be true. He can't have done that.

No. Not my auntie.

Not Aunt Rukia.

He can't have done that. Not to her. Not to me.

This can't be real…

But there's only a way to know.

I turn back and run.

A few seconds later, I burst into my father's room. He slowly turns toward me and my heart sinks when I notice that he's wearing his full uniform.

"Son. I believe Toma-san has taught you at least the basic manners." he says, looking coldly at me.

Usually, his glare has me blushing, bowing and apologizing in no time.

But not today. I have no time for this.

I glare back.

"Tell me it's not true."

He merely raises an eyebrow at me. "I have no time for your riddles, child. I have an important meeting."

He starts walking away, but my words stop him. "An execution, maybe?" I say. "I guess it wouldn't be fitting for a member of the Noble Kuchiki Family to be late – especially since the one who's being executed belongs to said family."

No answer. No reaction at all.

We just stand here, staring at each other.

"What are you going to do, father?" I say. "Will you just stand there and watch as Aunt Rukia is killed?"

"She has been sentenced to death by the central government." he replies, as if this news could settle the turmoil of my soul. Or actually make me feel better.

"She didn't have a trial!"

"They didn't think it was necessary." he replies, cold as ice.

My fists clench. "And what do you think, Father?"

He looks right through me, as if he couldn't quite see me. "I approve whatever decision they make."

What's this pain in my chest?

Why do I feel like my heart is breaking?

I stare at him, trying to keep my face blank. "Is that all?"

He looks almost…surprised by my boldness. "Do not waste your time with things you can't fully comprehend yet. You are only a child."

A hand grasps my shoulder. Toma-san stands behind me. "Forgive me, my lord. I thought he was attending his lesson with Morioka-san…"

Father nods briskly. "Make sure that this won't happen again, Toma-san. As you know, drifters have entered the Gotei 13 and my son must not be left unattended."

I hate it when he talks about me as if I wasn't there – as if I was nothing.

But today, it doesn't hurt that much anymore.

I am already bleeding too much – I won't feel the prickle of this needle.

Toma-san gently tugs at my arm, but I stand still, looking straight at him. "It is so, then?" I say. "You won't do anything."

I already did what I was ordered to. he says, turning his back on me. "I believe you have a lesson to attend to. A nobleman must not let other people wait for him, it is extremely impolite."

Toma-san tugs more insistently.

"I understand." I start walking away, then, right before crossing the doorstep, I turn back. He is still looking outside the window. "Is there anything you need to tell me…father?"

A moment of silence. And then…

"Nothing."

I cast a last glance at him. Then, I cross the threshold and head down the hall without turning back.

Nothing's gonna change the things that you said 

_Nothing's gonna make this right again _

_Please don't turn your back now, _

_I can't believe it's so hard_

_Just to talk to you _

_But you don't understand _

(Simple Plan – Perfect)

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	2. Shattered

ART TRADE NOTICE

I'd love to have a picture of Byakuya and Kenshin – trouble is, I can't draw to save my life.

So, here we are.

Is there somebody who can draw, liked this story and is willing to make a deal?

These are the terms of the trade:

The artist can draw them as s/he please, using whatever technique they like. Background is not required – the artist decides whether to put it or not. Either way is fine with me.

In exchange for your picture – I'll write you a short story. You decide genre, characters and pairings if you want them.

No yaoi and no yuri. I have nothing against this kind of fics, in fact I am a yaoi reader myself, but I write them as I draw – dreadfully.

However, I can also write about Naruto, Full Metal Alchemist (haven't finished it yet, so don't expect much. And don't spoiler) and Fruits Basket (don't know much about it, but I have a couple of friends I can bully into helping me).

Please note that every one who sends a picture will get a story – not only the author of the picture I think the best.

I only ask you to be patient, because I write out of inspiration – that never shows up when I want her to. I also have a hundred projects going on, plus school… but I'll do my best to give you your story as soon as possible.

If you decide to join the trade, just say so in a review email me (my address can be found in my profile)

So – is anyone interested? Pretty please?

PART 2 – SHATTERED 

It wasn't supposed to happen.

Kenshin wasn't supposed to know yet.

He caught me off guard – I wasn't ready to face him on this.

Maybe I never will.

After all, I haven't been able to look at my son's face since he was born.

He looks like you so much, Hisana…

I know what they say about me. They say that I would have been happier if you had lived and the child had died in your place. They say that I wish he was never born.

Maybe he thinks so as well – I never gave him any reason to think differently.

I can't look at him in the face for more than a few minutes. How can I tell him that I love him? How can I make him understand that he must not blame himself for your death, Hisana?

How can I confess that the only one to blame is me?

My relatives never stopped talking about us. They had accepted – albeit unenthusiastically – my marriage to you, but now they had found another reason to complain.

Four years of marriage and still no heir.

Outrageous. Wasn't this the main purpose of a marriage?

Forgive me, Hisana.

I shouldn't have listened to them.

I shouldn't have talked you into having a baby.

I honestly thought I was doing it for us both, when I was only trying to satisfy my own selfishness.

I thought that motherhood would have eased your troubled mind. Maybe the child – our child – would strengthened our bond.

Instead, in my haste to bound you closer to me, I crushed you.

Forgive me, Hisana. I didn't realize that it would trouble you even more.

You kept on wondering what sort of mother you would make, since you had deserted your own sister, and I kept on telling you that you would be perfect – but words were not enough.

You needed a solid proof, not words. Probably the only thing I couldn't give you.

Childbirth weakened your body and your spirit.

You didn't have the strength to fight the sickness that overtook you and you left me and your son.

If only I had waited one more year…

I am such a coward, Hisana. I can never quite look at them.

Years ago, I found Kenshin and Rukia playing in the garden. For a moment, I almost thought that it was you playing with our son.

It hurt so much, Hisana.

I stopped them and ordered Kenshin to go back to his studies. Then I told Rukia not to distract him anymore.

Seeing them together is almost unbearable. I can't help but thinking that you could have been there with them, if it hadn't been for me.

Hisana… what should I do today?

I promised you to protect your sister – but I also swore that I would never break the rules again.

It has been relatively easy not to think about it – until now.

Until our son rushed in, yelling at me, forcing me to take a stand.

I can't hide behind orders anymore.

Not with him. Not with you.

I am about to fail you again, Hisana.

Maybe I truly am the cold monster they say I am.

Being a noble, I could not express my feelings after your passing. I kept my desperation for myself, but it has been eating me up from the inside for fifty long years now.

Our son was – and still is – too painful a reminder.

He reminds me of my crime, of my selfishness.

I love him dearly – he's all I have left of you.

But I can't show it.

Loving hurts too much.

I used the family rules as a shield. They were the only certain thing I knew. I built my life without you around them, used them as a strong point – as head of the Kuchiki family, I was not allowed to crumble or despair.

I detached myself from everything.

Even from your sister.

Even from our son – especially from him.

I never knew the sound of his sobs. But I never knew the sound of his laugh, either.

I am trying to instill in him the same respect for rules – I want him to be strong and protected from anything. I want him to have something to hold on to forever.

I can't say that it is working, though.

But someday, he will understand.

Maybe starting from this very day.

He must understand. Rules can't be broken – if it happens, everything falls apart.

My contemplations are interrupted by the sound of hurried, approaching footsteps. I turn around as the door opens, revealing Toma-san's distressed face. Kuchiki-sama! 

"What caused this commotion?" I ask.

"Forgive us, Kuchiki-sama…your son…"

My heart start pounding in my chest. "What of my son?"

Toma-san bows her head, shaking. "He…he escaped." she breathes out, wriggling her hands. "Should I send for your men?"

"That won't be necessary." I reply as I move toward the door. "I shall take care of this personally."

I know his destination. He is heading to the place everybody tried to reach in the last few days: the white tower.

Rukia is still there – there are still a few hours to the execution.

And he's going to save her.

A few seconds – this is the time it takes me to find him.

He tried to suppress his spiritual power – but I can feel it nonetheless.

He tried to run as fast as he could – but I am faster.

Although I have to admit that I didn't expect him to come so close to the tower.

Even if it's not really close – it is still farther than I had anticipated.

But I cannot allow him to take another step forward.

I wait for him at the end of the alley.

He sees me and stops – a hand on his training sword.

He doesn't look surprised – merely angry that I could find him so quickly.

"Son." I say, looking at him in the eyes as I allow my spiritual powers to flow freely.

He staggers beneath the pressure, but does not look away. "Kuchiki-sama." he addresses me formally.

I frown. "What is this folly? You heard what I said: Rukia has been sentenced to death by the central government – the highest authority in Soul Sociaty. Surely you are not planning to act against them."

"I will, if I have to." he shots back.

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. "You are a child – you know nothing of the world." I take a deep breath. "Such an act would be regarded as high treason. Your age would not be considered an excuse and I would not do anything to change it."

"I wouldn't expect you to." he spits back.

"You cannot save her and you know it." I reply calmly, although my heart is hammering in my chest. "You are not trained yet. You aren't even an Apprentice Shinigami."

"I know." he says, still gripping his small sword. "But I must try. I must prove that there's at least a man in the Kuchiki family."

I scowl. "You have been taught better than that. You are disgracing our House by attempting such a foolish act."

"I don't think so, Kuchiki-sama." nor his voice nor his gaze weaver as he speaks. "I believe it more vile not to raise a single finger to help one's family."

"Do not judge actions you can't understand, child." I do not mean to be stern, but, somehow, my voice comes out harshly. "What would you know of honor? Your actions and your words prove that you have yet to grasp the deep meaning of this word." He frowns, but doesn't speak. "Rukia did. In fact, she has accepted her fate. She knows the entity of her fault and is willing to pay for it."

"And you call this honorable?"

"I do."

"I'd rather call it sensible, Kuchiki-sama." Every time he says that word – and he doesn't say it, he spits it out as if it was poisonous – I feel a knife twisting in my heart. "She obviously knew that she should never hope for anything from you."

You still persist in your proposal?"

He nods curtly. "I do."

I sigh. "Son, I understand how you are feeling…"

"No, you don't." he shouts, interrupting me. "You only care about rules and regulations! You're too stubborn to listen to anybody else!"

"It seems to me that it's you the one who is being unreasonable."I can't help but feeling a twinge of disappointment"I never thought you would grow up to value life more than honor – if it had been you, you would have begged for my help, then?"

A bright flame burns in his eyes as he replies. "I wouldn't even ask you to close my eyes when I'm dead, Kuchiki-sama. Even if I was to die within a hour."

His answer strikes me deeply. I can almost see a deep, dark rift between the two of us, as if we were standing on the opposite edges of a ravine.

"Kenshin…" I whisper as I blink my tears away.

A shadow falls on his face. For a second, I wish I was blind like Captain Tousen. So I wouldn't be forced to see the pain in my son's eyes – the desperation of one who has finally received what his heart yearned for, but when it was too late.

"If it had been you…" he chokes. "I would have done anything to save you. Not out of love or honor – but because you are my father."

I feel like my heart could burst as I see the abyss that lies between us.

"I understand." I whisper.

For a few seconds, no one speaks.

"However…" I don't know where I found the voice to answer"I cannot allow you to go."

He nods. "Then, there is no other way."

He charges at me. I know he's running as fast as he can, but everything seems slowed down – as if Time itself stretched, turning seconds into hours and minutes into days. Just to torture me with my own thoughts.

You are right, Kenshin. There is no other way – but don't blame yourself.

It was not your fault.

Once more, I am the only one to blame.

I guess that there's a price to pay for every choice – even when one decides to follow the rules to the end.

Forgive me, Hisana.

This is the way I chose to live – I won't change it now.

I can't change it.

I wonder if there is a right path to choose, in the end – if it's not the path of regulations, then which one?

Kenshin jumps as high as he can and starts bringing his sword down on me. I step aside and thrust out my hand – a second later, I'm holding the sword by the blade.

Kenshin shakes, bravely but vainly trying to fight my Demon Arts that are descending on him. After a few seconds, he loses his battle against oblivion and falls, but I catch him before he hits the ground.

His sword clatters on the pavement.

A boy of fifty can't weight much – yet, as I walk back with my son unconscious in my arms, I feel like I was carrying the whole tower.

A strangled scream, then a young girl comes rushing out the door. I should know her – yes, she was Hisana's youngest handmaiden, then became Kenshin's nanny.

Shinju – that's her name – Shinju snatches him out of my arms, cradling him against her chest and softly whispering his name.

She looks at me through her tears – if Hisana was still alive, I know she would have the very same look in her eyes, now.

"He is not injured – I used my Demon Arts to make him sleep." I feel compelled to explain as I lay his sword across his small body.

She doesn't speak – she merely raises and starts walking away, holding my son protectively.

If I was a different man, now I would go and finish what my son couldn't. I would save the person he loves the most from death and unjust punishment.

But I can't.

I can't do it more than I could step aside and let him save her with his own hands or die trying. I know he would.

Forgive me, Hisana.

I truly am a coward.

But I can't risk my sanity.

My eyes follow Shinju's retreating figure, lingering on Kenshin's pale face.

I never knew the sound of my son's laugh.

Now I never will.

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS

Lacus-chan: here you are! Hope it was soon enough ; )

ChibiRulz YanLan: yeah, I do read the manga. Can't wait to see what's going to happen… I hope you'll like this new chapter as well, I was really flattered by your review.

Alowl: so would I…

DreamAnimeKitten: glad you liked it so much! Technically it's a two-shots, but.. well, it's explained down here.

VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This fic was meant to end here. I have small idea for another couple of chapters, but, even so, I've no idea of where we are going… '

Should I continue it anyway?

There's also another little problem – this fic might take another path entirely – e.g. veer toward "humor". Imagine Byakuya with gastritis because of Kenshin's rebellious behavior and you'll get an idea.

If I decide to write it, I'll make it into another story and continue this one for serious developments – being an Angst writer to the core.

Anyway – what do you think I should do?

Continue this? Write the "humor part"? Write both?

I fell like I've just signed my own death warrant – a hundred projects, remember? – but I'll anxiously wait for your answers.


	3. Lost

Short chapter – but a chapter nonetheless! Just to show you I haven't abandoned this story. I really couldn't – it's like a thorn in my side, really.

I'm really sad no one answered the art trade…. Looks like trades and contests don't do too well with me – my C2 community on Renji/Tatsuki is holding a fiction contest, see my story "Something about you" for details if you're interested. Around Chapter 5, I think…

Anyway…here's the new chapter. I hope you'll like it.

CHAPTER 3: LOST

The first thing I become aware of is a wet cloth on my forehead. After a second, the sound of a soft voice humming a tune I remember from my childhood drifts in through the darkness.

My head is a mess – it feels like a scrambled egg. Still, I must open my eyes. I have to – but don't ask why.

I manage to crack an eye open, half expecting the cruel stab of pain that will come with the sunlight.

The room is blurry – and mercifully dim. The curtains have been drawn, just enough light to see but not too much to hurt.

The fog is slowly clearing away from my mind. My whole body feels as if it was turned into lead.

"Kenshin-sama?"

Shinju's face – I must be home, then.

Home… Aunt Rukia…dad…

I sit up, gripping my sheets to ignore the dizziness washing over me. My head's spinning, Shinju cries something, but I don't listen, I don't care. I feel like throwing up. Or smashing something. Or burning this whole house to ashes.

I gently pull her hand away from my shoulder and get up from the futon. "What o'clock is it, Shinju?" I ask as a lump silently forms in my throat. "How long have I slept?"

Shinju lowers her gaze, fingers twisting the cloth of her kimono. "It is midday, Kenshin-sama."

That cold wave again, sweeping over me. But this time, I don't wait for it to grip me completely. I can't wait.

I rush to the door as fast as my numb legs will carry me, but I find it locked. Shinju's voice drifts to my ears. "Please, don't strain yourself, Kenshin-sama. It's useless." there's no mockery, no satisfaction in her voice – it's only a sad, downhearted shade. "Even if you get past that door, the Sixth Division's 10th and 11th seat are guarding the house. Against the Drifters, he said."

My hand drops from the handle. "Ah."

Shinju watches me carefully as I slowly turn away and walk across the room. She looks worried – she was probably expecting a more powerful reaction from me. She can't feel my reiatsu flaring around me like a stormy wind. She can't hear the loud thumping of my heart.

My fists clench and unclench nervously, furiously. I throw the curtains open, looking outside. Shinju gasps. So, there was another reason why they were closed.

The light shines all over Soul Society, Seireitei and Rukongai alike.

Even from this distance, it's unbearable.

I force myself not to look away. My fist clench tightly, nails digging in my flesh.

I don't care. All I see is that light. A light as strong as the sun – a sun of death.

It hurts. It hurts my eyes, it hurts my head – it hurts my heart.

I want to scream.

My mouth tastes bitterly.

I want to grab the world and break it in two.

My body shakes.

I want to throw up.

I want to burn down this house and the whole Seiritei

I want to see the man that calls himself my father and spit in his face.

I want to curse and cuss, but no word can convey how I feel right now.

Anger, fury, helplessness, frustration, uselessness… all boiling inside of me, crashing like waves. Burning me down to the core.

I want to run out of here, run to that light as fast as I can.

I should at least try that.

Instead, I stand here and watch.

I watch through the tears that cloud my vision and fall on my kimono.

Forgive me, Aunt Rukia.

I should have run faster. I should have tried harder.

I'm sorry, aunt Rukia. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

Then, even through my tears and despair, I feel it.

Like a ripple in the water.

It's coming.

And the light stops its descent.

Was it too late? Is aunt Rukia…? Is she safe?

I stand and watch the light, feeling the movement of various reiatsu in the air, like small waves in a lake.

I allow myself to hope again. I want to hang on this fragile thread, if only for a little while.

Whatever the result of this day might be, I know without a doubt that something inside of me was lost to that light – burned to ashes, annihilated.

Even if I can't do anything to change the outcome of this battle – or whatever it is – I can still hope that today I won't lose anything else.

So I stand here – and watch. And hope desperately.

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	4. The Sound of Silence

CHAPTER 4: SOUND OF SILENCE

The boy's face is a cold mask as he looks down on the messenger. "Is that all?"

"It is, Kuchiki-sama."

Kenshin blinks. It's weird to be called with a title he usually reserves for another man – a man he'd rather not be associated with, but this connection can't be really helped, since it's his father, after all.

'It's all so stupid.' Kenshin thinks. 'I'm only a boy – not even an Apprentice Shinigami, yet – and everybody calls me "sama" because I'm a noble…This is ridiculous!'

Kuchiki Juro lays a hand on his shoulder and speak to the messenger. "Thank you. You may go."

The messenger bows and disappears.

Juro's wife, Naoko, sighs. "Good news, finally." she turns to her young charge, smiling. "Tomorrow I'll take you to see your daddy. Aren't you happy, Kenshin?"

Kenshin looks blankly at her, then turns his head toward the window. Outside it's raining. He watches the raindrops slide down the cool glass and bounce on the leaves of the trees.

Finally, as the silence starts to become uncomfortable, he answers her question.

"I don't want to see him."

Their faces' crumble – masks of horror and shock instead of sickening smiles.

Kenshin sees it all in the glass of the windows – and he's secretly glad about it.

* * *

Two days later, he stands in front of the Fourth Headquarter, only Shinju by his side. He keeps on glaring at the building, as if that mere action could turn it into something else. 

After a while, he rolls his eyes and sighs. "Let's go." he turns to her and smiles. "I bet you can't wait to see Renji-kun!"

Shinju blushes and smiles back – pretending she didn't notice that his smile hasn't quite reached his eyes.

They pass through the doors and a Shinigami greets them from behind her desk. "Good morning!" she says cheerfully. "Are you here to see Kuchiki-sama?"

"Not exactly" the girl blinks and Kenshin sighs inwardly. "We'll see him – eventually." he pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "Now, could you tell me where this people are staying?"

**Room 25**

"…Uritake-taichou paid a call on us yesterday – he sends you his best wishes for a swift recovery and said the whole Division is waiting for you. Oh, and I went to see Renji before coming here – they patched him up nicely and he's doing well. He told me to say hi – more or less."

"I can imagine…" Rukia says, laughing softly and watching her nephew walking around the room. "I'm really happy you came to see me, Kenshin."

"Not as happy as I am." he replies, fluffing her pillow. "Do you need anything? Water? Another blanket?"

Rukia just can't hold back a soft laugh. "Relax, Kenshin. I'm perfectly fine." a sad shadow flashes in her blue eyes. "I practically came out without a scratch…"

Kenshin grins and a second later Rukia finds herself in a bear hug that would break weaker backbones. "Hey! Are you trying to hug me to death?" Rukia squeals as she frees her arms and hugs him back.

The boy moves his head curtly, but there's no way to know if he meant yes or no. Rukia only smiles and holds him a little bit tighter, caressing his hair.

After a while, they reluctantly break the embrace.

"So, when are you coming back home?" Kenshin made a face. "Juro and Naoko are driving me crazy. I swear that they're worse than Toma-san."

Rukia lowers her gaze. "I'm not sure I can come back, Kenshin. OW!" her eyes widen as she rubs her arm. "Why did you pinch me?"

"Because you deserved it." he replies. "I can't see a single reason why you couldn't come home." he winks at her. "Hey, you can't leave me alone with Toma-san. And my father." he adds in a more serious voice.

"Are you going to see him?"

Kenshin pretends to think about it, then shakes his head. "No, I don't think so."

Rukia reaches out and lays her hand on her nephew's. "I think you should."

Kenshin huffs, but doesn't move away. "Why?"

Rukia glares. Kenshin doesn't look away.

From the sideline, Shinju worriedly shifts her gaze between the two opponents.

Finally, Kenshin puts an end to the staring-contest by lowering his eyes. "Fine." he mutters. "I'll go see him. But only because you're asking it!" he sighs. "I can't promise you anything, auntie."

Rukia hugs him again. 'I know how you're feeling, Kenshin. You do want something to happen…'

"I'm sure everything will be fine, eventually."

"If you say so…" he rolls his eyes, but Rukia can see the longing to believe it all over his face.

She smiles and pats his shoulder. "So?"

"So what?"

"Will you go to him?"

Kenshin lowers his head and doesn't answers. Rukia reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Please, Kenshin. Give him a chance." Still no answer. "Will you at least go to see him? For me?"

Kenshin sighs. "All right. I'm going. But only because you asked me!"

Rukia gives him a gentle push toward the door. "All right, all right – no go! Shinju, keep an eye on him."

"Don't need to," Kenshin replies. "I run out of princesses to save from cursed towers!"

Rukia laughs – and then smiles back at Shinju when she whispers that she will take care of Kenshin.

The door closes behind them – Rukia is alone again.

She frowns, still looking at the door where the pair disappeared.

She doesn't mind being used as an alibi – deep down, she knows that eventually Kenshin would have gone to see his father nonetheless, but his wounded pride and his anger needed a good reason to turn his steps toward **_that_** room.

Rukia doesn't mind being that reason – moreover, she hopes that this fact will help them, will take away a bit of tension.

'I know what you're looking for, Kenshin.' She thinks, still staring at the white door. 'I really hope you will find it again – somehow.'

**Room 14**

"So, how did…"

The rest of the question dies in Ichigo's throat as he looks up. Instead of his roommate Chad, there are two strangers in his room. One is a tall, black-haired girl with a very simple kimono and downcast eyes. Ichigo met a lot of people since he came to Soul Society – so many he can hardly remember all those names and ranks – but he's pretty sure he has never seen her before.

The other one – a boy who doesn't look a day older then 12 but surely is much older than him – is another story.

Ichigo frowns. There's something familiar about this boy, although he can't quite place his finger on it.

"Kurosaki Ichigo?" the boy asks.

The frowns deepens. "It's me."

The boy walks a bit closer to his bed as the orange-haired teenager studies his features. "I am Kuchiki Kenshin."

The connection is made in less than a second. 'Kuchiki Byakuya's son, I bet….What the Hell does he want? Avenge their family's honor?'

Then, to his utter shock, the other boy – a future Shinigami, a noble, a **_Kuchiki_** for crying out loud! – actually _**bows**_ to him.

Him. Kurosaki Ichigo, 16-years-old _**human**_ boy, drifter and unauthorized Shinigami.

"Thank you for saving my aunt Rukia." Kenshin raises his head and looks at him in the eyes. "And for beating some sense into my father." he adds in a low voice. "Even if I shouldn't say it."

Ichigo finds himself – not smiling, because he doesn't smile anymore – smirking conspiratorially at the boy. "My duty and my pleasure." he replies.

Then, he holds out his hand. A look of absolute surprise flashes on the boy's face, then he grins and grasps Ichigo's hand in a firm handshake.

They shake hands wordlessly, then, with a last bow, Kenshin and Shinju walk out.

**Room 40**

The door stands right in front of them – a mere, unrefined piece of wood compared to the gate of the Kuchiki Mansion – yet, Kenshin looks intimidated by it.

He bites his lower lip and scowls, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Shinju can't help but compare him to one of those pugilist back in Alley 52 where she grew up, a boxer who's getting ready to march up on that ring and doesn't know how this fight will go. But he's determined to fight nonetheless, even if it will cost him an eye or a kidney or his very life.

Or worse – his heart.

The boy schools its features in a blank mask that still doesn't quite hide the hopeful light in his eyes. Then, he raises his hand and knocks.

"Come in."

A deep voice answers from the inside and she holds her breath as Kenshin opens the door and enters. As protocol demands it, she trails one step behind her young master. But he's still so short that, if she looks down, she can see his pulse at the base of his throat.

She bows at the master of the House, keeping her head low.

Kenshin bows as well, but it comes out more brief, more shallow – just a rough draft of the gesture that is expected from him.

Yet, he does not speak – according to protocol, he can't until his father speaks to him.

Shinju wonders at his actions – and wishes he would just break every rule at once.

Kuchiki Byakuya looks at his son, his face a mask of stone.

"Son." he says, acknowledging his presence.

Kenshin looks straight back at him – Shinju can see his eyes reflected in the windowpane and barely chokes down a gasp. A mighty flame is burning inside of them and she can barely bear its sight, even from a reflection.

Kuchiki Byakuya himself looks away.

Silence fills the room, like a poisonous fog. It weight on them, it stands between them, it drenches them to the bone. It's like a tumor, a cancer that grows minute by minute and can't be stopped or eradicated.

Shinju feels it hovering on her, on them. She can almost see it creep into Kenshin's soul, exacerbating his wounds, drowning him. She bites her lower lip – as Kenshin did before entering this room, his father's room – for she can barely keep herself from screaming or grabbing the jar on Kuchiki-sama's nightstand and throw it on the ground.

Anything to break this crushing, this horrible silence. Anything to break this curse.

Then, suddenly, Kuchiki Byakuya speaks up.

"I trust all is well at home. Juro and Naoko are taking good care of everything, aren't they?"

"They are."

"Very well. Your lessons still continue as planned?"

"Indeed they do."

"Very well."

Kenshin stares at him with an intensity that frightens her. She has no idea of what he will say or what he will do – and how Kuchiki-sama will react.

But nothing happens – and silence reigns all of them.

Until the flame in the boy's eye slowly dies down.

"If I may be excused – father."

The last word sounds hollow and hesitant. Shinju prays that Kuchiki-sama will say something – surely he must have noticed.

But he only nods and says and dismisses them. "Yes – you have your own duties to mind."

Kenshin bows again – this time mechanically, then turns and leaves soundlessly.

Shinju follows him out of the room, eyes filled with tears.

She watches the boy – the little boy she brought up, the boy she loves as if he was her own – her little boy walk in front of her, starting at his stiff back.

She offers no consolation, because she knows she can give him none. Shinju was there, after all – invisible like every good servant should be until called forth, but she still saw it all.

They talked, but did not speak.

They heard, but did not listen.

Shinju walks behind Kenshin and silently cries for him, she cries the tears he won't shed – and those he will shed, too, as if that could reduce their number.

* * *

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	5. Numb

Hello everyone – sorry for the long gap, but real life got in the way and, among the consequences, it brought also writer's block. It's all but resolved, but I'm working on it.

I had these chapter sitting in my hard-disk for a while and I decided it's time to update. I hope you'll like them.

CHAPTER 5 – NUMB

One sweeping motion with my arm and all the stuff piled on my desk – scrolls, ink, brushes – crashes to the ground, stained and broken.

But it does not satisfy me.

I grab the nearest book and throw it against the wall, delighting in the dull thud it produces.

But it's not enough still.

I push books off their shelves, rip scrolls off the walls, tear clothes to shreds and savagely stomp the cursed kenseikans under my feet.

Vague noises reach my ears – thumps, crashes, ripping – but I don't stop. It's not enough. I have never heard better sounds or sweeter music. I wish it could get louder – I wish it could be heard all over the Gotei 13.

I don't stop. I can't stop. It's not enough.

As long as my fingers keep on gripping and scratching and shattering and slitting and destroying.

As long as I'll let this all out.

As long as I won't feel it….

It's not enough. Right now I could destroy the whole house, no, the whole Gotei 13.

Glass smashes, wood breaks as I let out my fury on my old toys, hurling them around the room, kicking them and treading on them.

At least this act makes me feel some sort of morbid joy – **_he_** paid for them.

I won't say he brought them – Toma-san or some other servant did it. I won't call them his gift – he didn't even see them.

I'm sick of this – all this.

I won't stop until it's all gone. Until _**he**_ is out – out of my room, out of my head, out of my life.

I stumble on something – whatever it was, I broke it and twisted it so much that it's unrecognizable – and fall on the stained carpet.

Suddenly, it's as if all my strength was drained. I just lay here, panting and watching my room.

What a mess I made… I hope Shinju won't be scolded for this.

I won't let her tidy up on her own – it wouldn't be fair.

My rage slowly retreats – like the tide. But my anger is not totally gone – it won't be gone so easily. It aches dully in my chest and this pain is the only thing I feel.

I just lie here – feeling the void of my soul hang down on me.

There must be a word to express this painful emptiness, this blank distress…

I've never felt like this before – so…

Tired.

Numb.

I wish he could see this, see what I've done. I wonder what he'd think – what he'd say. I don't think he'd understand.

He'd be disappointed – _**what right does he have to be?**_

As if he never let someone down. As if he didn't let me down…

I gave him a chance, I did.

I thought he had changed – I thought this whole mess could at least change him.

Obviously it didn't.

He has no right to be disappointed in me.

I'm tired of being controlled, tired of trying to meet up his expectations, tired of trying to win his acknowledgment. I just can't force myself to follow his rules and gain nothing in return – not anymore.

Why can't he just – let go?

Why doesn't he listen?

Why can't he see me?

Why can't I be me?

I've had enough of this! Now I get my life back! I won't follow his path anymore! I won't let him control me like this ever again!

I don't want to be him. I can't be him!

…I just want to be myself.

If he can accept it, good for him. If can't, then it's not my problem.

I don't care about him anymore. I just don't.

I just want to feel again – feel something true. Chase away this void, this cold. It has always been there, but the last events just broke down the walls behind which I kept it.

I'll drive it away. Somehow… I will. I must.

I don't care what he does, what he says. I don't care he won't approve of me. I don't.

I don't care I'll never have him acknowledge me… I don't need his acknowledgement…

These tears running down my face are not for him.

_I've become so numb _

_I can't feel you there_

_I've become so tired_

_So much more aware_

_I'm becoming this _

_All I want to do _

_Is be more like me_

_And be less like you_

(Linkin Park – Numb)


	6. Easier to Run

CHAPTER 6: EASIER TO RUN

I could not look at him – again.

Unlike me, Kenshin never learned to suppress and hide his feelings. According to rumors, it was because of Rukia, because of her influence. No one mentions his mother – thankfully.

I do not know if I could bear it.

And yet – he's not like Hisana.

Not completely, for as much as she tried to hide her sadness, her grief, it was always there – coming off of her in waves, like a fog.

He did take after his mother – his deepest feeling project almost a physical aura around him. But, unlike his mother, he does not try to hide it. He allows himself to be surrounded by it, he basks in it.

It is such a powerful sensation – his anger, his hurt.

This is no childish tantrum, no passing mood – it will not fade easily.

And I know it's not only because of the attempted execution of his aunt. I know as much.

No, it is too old – too deep. Too strong.

Years and years of emotions pushed in the far depth of his soul and kept carefully hidden away.

How could I be so blind that I did not see my own child's distress?

Pretending this time won't help me – I know perfectly well how it happened.

I kept him away from me. I wrapped myself in my grief – and I didn't see, I didn't think that he needed me. He needed his father, not the Head of the Kuchiki Clan, not the Captain of the Sixth Division.

He needed his father, but I was not there for him.

Is it possible that… that I lost even the memory of feeling?

No – it's ridiculous. I love my son. I love my adopted sister. I love Hisana – but her death left a void inside of me.

I was not taught to express my feelings – indeed, I was taught they were irrelevant and unreliable. But it is not so easy – some things run deeper than that.

I still cannot believe I did not realize…

I truly believed I was following Kenshin's best interest. Instead I was only following my own selfish grief and the rules of my family, allowing them to blind me and lead me at the same time.

I gave him everything – except what he truly wanted, what he needed.

Now I see it, I see my past mistakes.

But I cannot set them right – it is too late.

I cannot set them right because – because maybe I could give what he wanted back then… Except that he does not want it, he does not need it anymore.

He learned to live without it.

And it seems that it's not over… that it will never be over.

He wants something out of me. He might deny that, but I know he does.

The worst thing is that I can't understand what it is.

He is a stranger to me – I do not know how I could set this right.

Even after all the latest events, I find I cannot leave my own sanctuary – my own shell, as he calls it.

A shell made of rules and traditions – and detachment.

The truth is – I am afraid.

Too many mistakes I made – I cannot find inside of me the strength to face them all.

It is just too difficult for me to destroy all I have worked so hard to built.

I cannot look back – I cannot move forward.

I can only stand here, in this moment.

Forgive me, my son.

I am a coward – I cannot do this.

If I could change the past – believe me, I would not hesitate.

But I do not have the strength to change the future. The strength to step up, step out of my shell.

But for me, it is too late. Too late to change, too late to fix the mistakes I made with you, too late to start again.

I hope it won't be too late to make amends – somehow, someday I shall find a way to do so.

I can only hope that it won't be too late to forgive me, then.

_If I could change I would, take back the pain I would_

_Retrace every wrong move that I made I would _

_If I could stand up and take the blame I would_

_I would take all my shame to the grave_

(Linking Park – Easier to run)

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